Michael Stipe is still gay.

As I drove into work this morning I looked up in the sky and saw the most glorious thing! The torso of Jesus Christ emerging from the clouds, his outstretched hands proudly showing off his stigmata, and wee little dead children standing in the clouds raising their arms in excessive flattery! As soon as I could find a safe place to pull my car over, I did so, and immediately exited my car and fell upon my knees and worshipped the Lord. When suddenly, I noticed a little basket dangling beneath the clouds. A flame was shooting from the basket and illuminating the clouds where Jesus' lower half should be. Inside the basket were little people, waving at me, holding signs that said "Repent!" and "Jesus is Lord!" Imagine my shock when I realized that this wasn't a vision of Jesus, but rather a giant Jesus shaped hot air balloon! I was pissed, but since I was already on my knees, I decided I'd dedicate my life and soul to the praise and worship of JESUS BALLOON! Born again in the lighter-than-air blood of Jesus.

To most, I seem like a resonable enough guy.
"SEEM," being the operative word.



And "reasonable," that's a good word too.

Do you remember when the Kevin Costner epic fantasy "Waterworld" came out? Do you remeber all the hubbub and mockery that was stirred up by that watery tart of nihilistic cinema? Everybody laughed at Mr. Costner and his shiny webbed feet. Yeah, well, who's laughing now? Now that you've all seen "An Inconvenient Truth" and as the East coast melts under a sweltering sun, Mr. Costner's little opus doesn't look so foolish anymore, now does it?

Years from today, I believe that Mr. Costner's film will be elevated in status from mega-flop to historic documentary, and survivors of the great flood will use it as an instructional video on how to get by on our soggy Earth.

I, myself, have already began to construct my own drinkable urine doodad device, and I've been testing daily. Still tastes like urine, I have to report, but with more of a fruity tang.

Last night, I tattooed the map to the mainland on my infant nephew's back. I didn't know exactly how to direct the child back to the mainland from out at sea, so I just put in an arrow pointing West, because clearly North or South would be a bad idea.

That's it for now. I hope to keep you all updated on my progress in preparing for the flood. At least until my keyboard gets water in it.

-Mike

P.S. If anyone sees Dennis Hopper around, please kill him before he can raise his smoker army in an abandoned oil tanker. Thanks.

Don't tell me that you are not familiar with the Gods of Blogging! Oh no, don't tell me that!

Oh ye of little wisdom, let me smack some smarts into your otherwise vacant little heads.

Fact ..1: Our blogging gods go by the names of Wittly and Nemisissaurus.

Fact ..2: They do, indeed, live in a bog. Yes, blogging gods that live in a bog. Any of you wiseasses that want to ask, "Do they drink eggnog?" Well, yes, in fact, they do, but Wittly has lactose intolerance, so he is forced to drink the soy variant.

Fact ..3: Nemisissaurus is older than Wittly by one day. Wittly likes to rub this bit of trivia in Nemi's face, calling him "The old man," and buying him "Over-The-Hill" ball caps.

Fact ..4: Irrelevant!

Fact ..5: These are relatively new gods. Response time in regards to Blog prayers is relatively slow. They've only got one computer between the two of them, and they haven't upgraded their internet connection from dial-up.

I've heard a lot of ballyhoo and monkeyshines, lately, about things that go around eventually coming around again. That people that do bad things eventually pay for the bad things they do when "Karma" gets their hands on them. What a steaming load of horse pucky!

If the whole Karma angle is true then how do you explain the Paris Hiltons of the world, the Ann Coulters and the Pat Robertsons? All the arrogant personalities that can get away with murder (sometimes literally) and are still able to bask in the glow of their bottomless fame and fortunes.

The Buddhists say it's Karma, that someday the evil people in the world will get their comeupance. The Christians say, "Vengence is mine, sayth the Lord" and "turn the other cheek" hoping that someday, somewhere, God or Karma is going to bring his/her smackdown on the evildoers with a flaming sword of judgment and embarass the little demons by showing them their sins on a big movie screen. Posh! Isn't this just another form of mental revenge? Soothing the intellect with thoughts of eventual justice?

I like this theory better. Most people live in a constant unconscious state. They don't know they are unconscious, so they keep on doing unconscious (stupid, lame, evil, insane) things. Don't excuse people's behaviors with words like "evil," and "bad." It's up to the conscious people to wake up the world around us. Don't let words like "justice" sink you into unconsciousness and eat you alive.

p.s. Thank god Batman isn't a Buddhist.

After watching the preview for "9/11" starring Nicholas Cage I wondered why it is that every cop or firefighter in New York has a big bushy mustache. I mean, what is it about New York culture that keeps it's officers in some sorta "mustaches are gay, but mustaches on cops is kinda cool," bubble?

I think I will design a t-shirt with several different styles of mustaches on the front, with a title beneath each, reading "The Handlebar, The Tom Selleck, The Monkeywrench, etc." and in big bold letters on top it will read "MUSTACHES." On the back it will read, "They're not just for the gays, anymore."

Is that offensive? I can't tell, anymore. It probably is. Do homosexuals like to be referred to as "The Gays?" Probably not. Is the mustache a gay stereotype? Kinda-sorta.

This T-shirt would all fall into my special line of clothing for heterosexuals called, "GAY FOR A DAY." It's aimed at heterosexuals who are not afraid to have gay pride. I figured that since non-Irish folk are allowed to be Irish on St. Patty's day then we heteros can have gay pride on Gay Pride's Day.

What is the symbolic signifigance of a dead pigeon?

That is the question I've been asking myself the past few days. I've never seen a bird hit by a car in mid-flight until this past Sunday. The poor winged sucker was standing in the road, mussing with a crust of bread or a carcass of some sort, when it tried to get out of the way of an oncoming SUV and got plastered by it's grill. Feathers everywhere. The heartless SUV didn't waiver, didn't slow down or stammer in it's grim determination to get to where ever the hell it was going. I cursed the driver and waved my clenched fist in the air as the remains of the pigeon flopped to the ground.

One day later, it happened again. I witnessed another poor pigeon get creamed by an oncoming car. I started to think this was some sort of sign. This MEANS something. Two dead pigeons in two days.

My interpretation: The pigeon is the dirty rat-like cousin of the dove. The dove represents peace. The pigeon delivers messages. A dead pigeon is like a dead rat-like messenger of peace. A person is going to come into my life who will appear to be bringing me a message of peace and hope. This person is, in fact, a lying rat who will betray me. Before I let this person gain my trust and betray me, I should run him or her over with my car... twice.

Did I mention that I starred in a short movie called, "The Pigeon?" Hmmm. Very interesting.