World Class Stupid: 2014
Marcus and Augusta Agrippa were furious. It was December 17, the first day of Saturnalia, and all of their friends were hanging ornaments on trees, stuffing themselves with food, getting drunk and screwing and exchanging presents afterward. They went home and complained to their father Flavius. "Why can't we overeat and get presents?" they asked. "Only the pagans do that," said Flavius, "and we're Christians. We don't celebrate Saturnalia because we don't believe Saturn is the god of the harvest because we believe in one true God."
I mean, put this into perspective. This was 1994, and there was a terrible danger to announcing sexual ambiguity: a performer could find himself almost too popular. Still, even the hetero singers risked it. Mr. Stipe's trailblazing came a mere twenty-two years after David Bowie came out as bi, fourteen years after Mick Jagger played an effeminate cross-dressing bisexual in Performance, and just twenty years after the New York Times declared Lou Reed to be "publicly gay."
Just sixteen short years after the Tom Robinson Band sang "(Sing If You're) Glad To Be Gay," Mr. Stipe was singing, "Chicken trainwreck sombrero termites, ukulele marmalade cats." I remember getting chills trying to imagine how things would change for the next generation! How emboldened they would be by a major star's admonition that he'd once seen a man who was kind of attractive and he told his girlfriend and she was like, "Whaaa?"
Today is your lucky day. While the other mail you receive will just be junk or bills, this letter brings you something far more exciting. It has been touched by fourteen people from Liberia and may be teeming with the Lucky Ebola virus. You will receive good luck within four days provided you rub this letter against yourself and then send it on. BUT copies of this letter must leave your hands within 96 hours. A United States Air force
officer received this letter and didn't send it on. John A. Elliot didn't receive a promotion
because he broke the chain. In the Philippines, Genio Welsh threw away this letter without reading it. Three days later his dog was attacked by a skunk.
Photocopy this letter twenty times and rub it against the original to transfer the Ebola magic.
Then send the copies to friends and associates. After a few days you will get a surprise. This is true even if you are not superstitious.
POTENTIAL JUROR #1: "Wife and Dog Missing. Reward for Dog." POTENTIAL JUROR #2: "Gun Control Means Using Both Hands."
Once you hit thirty, though, that grace period is over. All of a sudden every possible explanation is medical. Instead of wracking their brains, they're searching WebMD. "Maybe he's had a stroke," somebody says. "Does half of his face look like Grumpy Cat?" You go on and on to your friends about how much you love Jenny Lewis. Such a talent, you say. Absolutely unbelievable, you say. I'm even starting to get a little crush. In fact, sometimes when I touch myself, I think about -- And then you notice everybody is staring at you weird.
Pinnacle of American Womanhood Hopes To Manipulate Two Cups In Miss Galaxy Competition at
World Class Stupid: 2014
Marcus and Augusta Agrippa were furious. It was December 17, the first day of Saturnalia, and all of their friends were hanging ornaments on trees, stuffing themselves with food, getting drunk and screwing and exchanging presents afterward. They went home and complained to their father Flavius. "Why can't we overeat and get presents?" they asked. "Only the pagans do that," said Flavius, "and we're Christians. We don't celebrate Saturnalia because we don't believe Saturn is the god of the harvest because we believe in one true God."
I mean, put this into perspective. This was 1994, and there was a terrible danger to announcing sexual ambiguity: a performer could find himself almost too popular. Still, even the hetero singers risked it. Mr. Stipe's trailblazing came a mere twenty-two years after David Bowie came out as bi, fourteen years after Mick Jagger played an effeminate cross-dressing bisexual in Performance, and just twenty years after the New York Times declared Lou Reed to be "publicly gay."
Just sixteen short years after the Tom Robinson Band sang "(Sing If You're) Glad To Be Gay," Mr. Stipe was singing, "Chicken trainwreck sombrero termites, ukulele marmalade cats." I remember getting chills trying to imagine how things would change for the next generation! How emboldened they would be by a major star's admonition that he'd once seen a man who was kind of attractive and he told his girlfriend and she was like, "Whaaa?"
Today is your lucky day. While the other mail you receive will just be junk or bills, this let
ter brings you something far more exciting. It has been touched by fourteen people from Liberia and may be teeming with the Lucky Ebola virus. You will receive good luck within four days provided you rub this letter against yourself and then send it on. BUT copies of this letter must leave your hands within 96 hours. A United States Air force
officer received this letter and didn't send it on. John A. Elliot didn't receive a promotion
because he broke the chain. In the Philippines, Genio Welsh threw away this letter without reading it. Three days later his dog was attacked by a skunk.
Photocopy this letter twenty times and rub it against the original to transfer the Ebola magic.
Then send the copies to friends and associates. After a few days you will get a surprise. This is true even if you are not superstitious.
POTENTIAL JUROR #1: "Wife and Dog Missing. Reward for Dog." POTENTIAL JUROR #2: "Gun Control Means Using Both Hands."
Once you hit thirty, though, that grace period is over. All of a sudden every possible explanation is medical. Instead of wracking their brains, they're searching WebMD. "Maybe he's had a stroke," somebody says. "Does half of his face look like Grumpy Cat?" You go on and on to your friends about how much you love Jenny Lewis. Such a talent, you say. Absolutely unbelievable, you say. I'm even starting to get a little crush. In fact, sometimes when I touch myself, I think about -- And then you notice everybody is staring at you weird.
Pinnacle of American Womanhood Hopes To Manipulate Two Cups In Miss Galaxy Competition at